


Dancing on Jakku

by rainbowtaurus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Bittersweet, Crush at First Sight, Deception, Emotional Comfort, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, POV Kylo Ren, Slow Dancing, Soft Kylo Ren, The Force, Virgin Kylo Ren, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, fast burn, kinda horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21593266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowtaurus/pseuds/rainbowtaurus
Summary: Kylo Ren takes a detour on Jakku after murdering Lor San Tekka.He enters a cantina and asks a very strange girl named Rey to dance. He tells her his name is Ben, and that he is with the Resistance.‘Kylo feels her arms tighten around his neck, and he responds in kind, wrapping her in his embrace. They sway gently with the music, barely moving at all.“We dance really well together.” Rey says quietly, and the words ghost over his skin.The music stops, and so do they, though they don’t really let go of each other.’
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 42
Kudos: 162
Collections: Reylo Hidden Gems





	Dancing on Jakku

**Author's Note:**

> anyone else's google docs full of half baked fanfics?  
> I found this quirky piece and made a few minor edits but it's still un-beta'd and very rough.  
> Thx for reading!  
> ***

Kylo stands at the top of the mesa and squints into the dark desert landscape. He is able to make out a crater in the center of the valley, the basin around it weathered by years of wind storms and littered with rusting ships. 

After a moment he turns away from the view, boots sinking into the sand as he bypasses his shuttlecraft. 

The mission was for the most part, a success. The Resistance pilot is in custody and the village thoroughly decimated. Skywalker’s location will soon be revealed and the Supreme Leader will be satisfied. 

He should feel pleased. Accomplished. 

Kylo skids down an embankment towards civilization - a larger village - one still bustling with life and activity long after sunset. He finds himself unable to focus, unable to remain still. The rush from killing Lor San Tekka pulsates through him; the sight of the massacred villagers won't leave his memory.

He can still see their limbs bent at awkward angles, their expressions contorted in such a way that they cannot be mistaken for sleeping. Bodies, now abandoned shells left to rot in the open. Who will bury them and mourn over their grave? Likely no one at all. Some will be consumed by the wildlife and others will simply decay, forgotten as though they'd never existed.

A grim picture.

Jakku is sweltering long after the sun sets and Kylo abandoned his mask, cape, and thickly padded tunic for a sleeveless black shirt crossed by the straps of his suspenders. He walks through the humid streets of the village and no one questions or stops him.

Why would they?

The only tell that there may be more to him is the lightsaber attached to his belt. The villagers bypassing him are either too intoxicated or too exhausted to care.

Kylo’s stride slows when he rounds a corner and finds himself in front of a cantina. He is not partial to places like these, but an energy calling to him from inside demands he investigate.

The door hinge whines as he opens it, the sound quickly silenced by a wall of noise. Shouting and boisterous laughter make it nearly impossible to hear the band playing in the corner of the room. Conversations swirl in a dirty cloud of smoke, the stagnant stench of cigarettes rivaled only by the smell of sweat. People are dancing if you could call it that, and Kylo ducks under the doorway as he enters. Eyes briefly flicker in his direction - he only just clears the ceiling - and he pushes past men and women slumped over their pints, past the back slapping aliens playing bar games to follow the call of the Force.

Kylo does not have to exert much effort to push through the crowd of drunken dancers, they hastily part when they spot him coming.

But one person doesn’t.

One person does not pause to stare at him or throw a glance his way.

And that person is the source of the strange pull he feels through the Force.

She - he is _fairly_ certain the person is a human woman - stands in the back of the room in a dimly lit enclave. Only she’s not really standing, he realizes, drawing closer. And her head really _isn’t_ as big as he thought.

She’s swaying her hips back and forth, her arms flopping at her sides, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings while wearing an old Rebel flight helmet. 

At night. In a seedy dark tavern. 

No one pays her any mind. 

Is she mad?

Glasses clink and spill over as Kylo shoves his way to her a little more aggressively, not giving the crowd a chance to clear a path for him. Bodies bump and crash into each other. A man swears and readies to fight when his eyes take in the sheer size of Kylo. He retreats and staggers back into the masses, mumbling about off-worlders.

Is it that obvious he is not from Jakku?

Surely no one recognizes him without his mask.

Kylo reaches the spirited dancer and leans down.

“Hey.”

No response, not a lick of acknowledgment.

 _"_ Hey!” he speaks louder.

She _must_ be mad.

“ _Hey!_ ” He’s shouting now and he taps her helmet with one finger.

“Go away!” She yells, twisting from side to side. 

“Do you always dance alone?” He continues raising his voice, his head darting back and forth as he tries to catch her line of sight.

“What?” She uses two hands to lift off the helmet. Her hazel eyes lock onto the lightsaber hanging at his side.

“What do you want?” She questions, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. One of her arms reaches behind her and grasps a staff. She moves as fast as lightning and braces the staff under his chin, unafraid. 

Kylo blinks, surprised at the face hidden behind the helmet. She is younger than he expected and...prettier.

Beautiful.

Her skin is not hard and leathery despite a lifetime of toiling on this dumpster world. Kylo can see in the firm way she grips her staff that she is made of strong, wiry muscle. But her face - her face must give her trouble on this planet. Her features are delicate with a light dusting of freckles that sweep across her cheekbones and nose. She glares at him through long curved lashes and her lips pull back into a snarl. The feral expression is meant to contort her face into something unattractive, but it has quite the opposite effect. 

He idly wonders if that’s why she wears the helmet.

“What do you _want_?” She repeats through clenched teeth. 

The girl is aware of the route his gaze is taking, and he senses how it unnerves her. She can’t be sure of his intentions, and she has every right to expect the worst.

Kylo presses his lips together, swallows, and then speaks. 

"…I would enjoy a dance. With you.”

That throws her. And him.

He really doesn’t know what he is doing. All he knows is the Force is guiding him to this strange girl, and he senses the power inside of her. She must be aware of it. Or is she concealing it? 

Perhaps it is dormant, begging to be awakened.

“Dance?” A short, harsh laugh escapes her. As if he’s told a very funny joke. “Who _are_ you?”

Kylo glances at her helmet and then slowly pushes her staff to the side. His throat feels thick as he speaks. 

“I’m with the Resistance.”

“ _Resistance_?” Her eyes brighten and shock flashes across her face. “The Resistance? I’ve _never_ met a Resistance fighter before. Are you here because of the First Order?” Her voice lowers as she inclines her head. “I heard they were here - an entire village was taken out.”

The emotion in her voice hints at someone, who against all odds, still holds onto hope. There is something about the girl luring him in, and Kylo finds himself wanting to unravel everything about her.

“Yes.” He finally answers. “That’s why I’m here - that’s why the Resistance is here. What is your name?”

Her chest heaves with excitement.

“I’m Rey,” she says, and she smiles.

Kylo can feel his normally tight grip on himself loosening as she beams.

Rey.

Her name suits her.

“And yours?” She asks, leaning her staff against the wall. 

Kylo realizes with a certainty that is intoxicating and thrilling, that he is going to continue his lie. His mind can't keep up with his own urgency when he answers her. 

“Ben. My name is Ben.”

“No surname?”

“No.”

“I don’t have one either.”

Kylo doesn’t care that his behavior is reckless and borderline treasonous. He doesn’t care that saying his old name causes a dull throb in his chest. Most of all, he doesn’t care that Snoke will have his hide if he finds out about this. In fact, Kylo finds himself titillated by this act of defiance.

“Dance with me Rey.”

“Here?"

Kylo cocks his head to the side, motioning towards the rambunctious dancing taking place behind him.

“This does appear to be an institution where people dance. Please?” He offers his hand, outstretched and trembling. 

Rey's smile vanishes. There is a stubborn set to her jaw as she considers his offer.

“Just a dance.” He promises. “Nothing more.” 

Kylo's breath hitches when Rey tentatively lifts her arm. He can't recall the last time he received a gentle touch.

She takes his hand, fingers barely brushing against the pads of his fingertips. Kylo is reminded with a start that he is not wearing gloves because their touch is electrifying. It _burns_. The sharp heat tempers to a warmth, to a pulsing sensation stretching from him to her. Kylo feels it in the center of his chest, growing stronger with each beat of his heart. They both jump back a bit, unsure if what they feel is real. Rey’s eyes find his, wide and confused, searching for answers. 

As if he _has_ answers.

Before she can change her mind, Kylo pulls her tightly against him. One hand splays against the small of her back, holding her close, while the other finds her waist. He feels her hands curl around his biceps as she attempts to wiggle herself out of his hold. 

Kylo immediately lets go.

“Sorry.” His face feels hot. “I haven’t done this before.”

“I understand. I just wasn’t expecting...you were very forward.”

A pink tinge colors her cheeks. They stare at each other for a moment, both blushing furiously.

“Can we try again?” Kylo asks, determined to understand the will of the Force. Determined to understand why it chose _her._

“This way,” Rey takes hold of his hand and leads him through a back entrance. Outside the cantina it is quieter, less pungent, and private. The music flows through the open door and Kylo raises a brow.

“Your staff?”

“No one will touch it.”

Kylo nods silently in response, wondering if he underestimates her. Then, he is dimly aware that the music from inside has changed to something slower.

“How about - like this?” Rey guides his hands to her waist and places her hands on his shoulders. “I’ve seen people dance this way,” she says nervously, “but we can change it, or try something diff -”

“It’s fine.” Kylo says gently.

Their feet dance lightly together, both of them trying to lead at once. It causes them to trip every few seconds, resulting in flustered apologies. It takes more than a minute for Kylo to recall the formal dance lessons of his childhood, to calm the beating of his heart inside his ribcage. Then finally, _finally_ , he takes the lead and she follows. They find a rhythm that allows them to glide together as one. The need for leading or following eventually fades as their confidence and trust grows. The Force hums as they anticipate each others' every step and twirl. To an outsider it would appear that they have danced like this for a lifetime.

Kylo is too enchanted to notice. 

As the music plays on, he feels her fingertips dance softly across the back of his neck, and she draws back to search his face.

“Are you able to talk about it?”

“About?”

“Your mission here. With the Resistance.”

“Ah.” Kylo never breaks his gaze, but he hesitates. “We are searching for Luke Skywalker’s location.”

Her eyes widen and she stops dancing.

“I thought Luke Skywalker was a myth.”

Kylo shrugs. “We'll find out when we get a hold of the coordinates.”

“Well, I hope you find him.” 

She speaks so earnestly and with such conviction that he almost wishes...no. It is foolish for him to wish to be anything other than what he is.

“What about you, Rey? What are you doing on Jakku?”

A thread of embarrassment trickles through the Force.

“I’m nobody special. I’m just a scavenger.”

Kylo’s gaze is intense, and he means what he is about to say.

“You’re _not_ nobody. Not to me.” 

Kylo feels her arms tighten around his neck, her fingers curling around his dark hair. He responds in kind, wrapping her in his embrace. They sway gently with the music, barely moving at all.

“We dance really well together.” Rey says quietly, and the words ghost over his skin.

The music stops, and so do they, though they don’t really let go of each other. 

Kylo stares at Rey, at this odd stranger in his arms. He strokes a strand of hair from her cheek, letting his fingertips skim down the side of her face. He steadies the hand that is still resting on her waist, fingers spread out as far as they will go, desperate for more. Kylo leans his forehead against hers and Rey rubs her nose against his - it is surprisingly playful and sweet.

She _is_ sweet. Kind.

And then slowly, hesitantly, their lips meet, soft and lingering against each other. He doesn't want to scare her, to spook her. Kylo tilts her chin up for a different angle and coaxes her mouth open, asking for access. Rey nips at his bottom lip and Kylo feels her smile against his mouth. The intimacy of it is overwhelming. 

Kylo just lets himself feel. They both do. 

Surely, Rey feels it as strongly as he does? This pull towards the Force, towards each other.

She fills his senses and he wants more. He wants her. Rey uses the straps of his suspenders to pull him closer and it destroys any control he has left. 

Without warning Kylo kisses her deeply, his breath becoming ragged, his hands aching to roam across her body. His mouth grows demanding as her lips part wider, yet she matches his searing pace. His cheeks burn as he imagines her without clothes on, as he imagines her in his bed. He's never known a woman that way before, but he'd like to. If it's with her.

She gasps a word that sounds like _Ben_ and he can’t take it anymore. 

“Rey.” Kylo's voice is a low husky rumble. “Come back with me.”

Her face is flushed and glistening, the tip of her nose pink. 

Kylo can see that she wants to say yes. No Force needed to detect that. Her existence is a lonely one, and he senses the conflict within her when she looks at him.

“I wish I could, Ben.”

Kylo stiffens at the name. He keeps forgetting.

“What keeps you here?” Kylo struggles to subdue the feelings coursing through him. "I would be with you. You wouldn't be alone anymore."

“I - I can’t.” Rey’s head drops. “I’m waiting for my family. They’ll be back to get me. Someday. I _have_ to be here.”

Kylo dips his head, his lips tantalizingly close to her neck. He breathes against her and mutters low into her ear. “Join me, Rey. Please.” He trails kisses along her neck, her jawline, and back up to her lips.

“Join the - Resistance.” 

The Resistance. She will find herself on the First Order Flagship, should she choose to leave with him. 

“I’m sorry.” Rey’s voice is a hoarse whisper. “Not right now. Not until I find my family. But don’t forget me?” She asks, eyes pleading.

“I won't.” Kylo responds quietly. “I won’t forget you.”

Rey’s blush is beautiful to see, and his heart - his _heart_ \- leaps. 

Reluctantly, they part and Rey folds her arms around her waist. Kylo stands in an equally awkward stance.

The loneliness descending upon them is unbearable.

“Do you need a ride anywhere? I have a speeder.” Rey motions to the alleyway on their left where her transportation is parked. 

More than anything Kylo wants to wrap his arms around her, to ride off and disappear into the desert. 

“No,” he says. “No thanks. My craft is nearby.”

A craft that undeniably belongs to the First Order.

“Ah. Okay. Well, goodnight Ben. I had a nice time.”

A nice time. Is that all it was?

“I did too.” Kylo steels himself to leave, his back facing her as he turns away.

“I liked kissing you." Rey blurts out.

Kylo freezes. 

Her admission stirs in the predator in him. He could take her - she doesn’t yet know her own strength with the Force. As tough as Rey is, she wouldn’t stand a chance. Kylo Ren takes whatever he wants without reservation.

But to Rey, he is Ben. And so, with great effort, he answers and acts as he would in his old life. Kylo looks at her over his shoulder. 

“I liked kissing you too, Rey. Goodnight.”

Kylo won’t forget the woman on Jakku. He hopes the Force isn’t through with them yet, and he makes it a point to plot the precise coordinates where they met. 

Rey thinks she is nobody, and maybe to the rest of the galaxy she is. 

But not to him.


End file.
